


Other Paths Prequels 2 and 3

by thebasement_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-09-30
Updated: 1999-09-30
Packaged: 2018-11-20 11:57:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11335203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebasement_archivist/pseuds/thebasement_archivist
Summary: Another moment from the "Nameless" universe





	Other Paths Prequels 2 and 3

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

 

Other Paths: Distance and Possession: A moment from the "Nameless" universe By Te

Distance and Possession: A moment from the "Nameless" universe  
By Te  
3 July 1998

*** ***** ***

In a message dated 7/2/98 12:23:34 PM, Alicia wrote:

<<BeatMeAndI'llWhupYourSorryAssAndMakeYouLikeIt!Skinner; >>

Oh, honey. I am so, so sorry. But you really shouldn't have done that. You *know* how many people wanted him to peel off another hundred... And how could *no* one else run with this?

* * *

"Four hundred? Just what... extras were you expecting this time? Sir."

Walter was at a loss. There really wasn't any way to say "I want to bend you over my lap and spank you 'til you glow" and still retain your dignity. He'd picked up

//Alex his name is Alex///

the boy several times over the past few months; always the same. Some random, anonymous motel, a few hours of incredible sex, and always, always there would be one moment when the look in the hustler's eyes made him ache for more. Something.

He had only himself to blame. He'd demanded a better act and gotten one. A hustler who offered his own pleasure for Walter's benefit. A sex toy that smiled; that, God help him, could make him laugh. He longed for the self-delusion to be able to convince himself that he was only coming back for the tight ass and greedy mouth; had long since lost any guilt over the fact that he was cruising in the first place. But there was a need for

//distance//

discipline...

"Sir?"

//Might as well come right out with it...//

"Have you ever been spanked?"

The eyebrow arched in a way that had become far too familiar over the past months, the hint of humor that would forever be linked in his mind to the feel of cheap, tangled sheets and the scent of sex. Walter had no idea what he would do if the younger man were to laugh. But then the face closed abruptly, olive eyes hooded themselves. Something settled deep inside Walter at this re-assumption of professionalism; something else railed.

//Just what did he see on my face?//

"Yes. Two hundred over and above the base price... unless you want to change the terms of our arrangement entirely?"

"I still want you for

//'...the night at my mother's, Walter, as if you give a damn...'//

the whole night."

Alex nodded absently and whipped the towel from around his waist, rubbing it briefly through his shower-spiked hair before tossing it aside. Walter watched the slide and pull of lean muscles as the younger man stretched; peeled out the fifth bill.

"How do you want me?" The boy was running an upsettingly impersonal hand over his own abdomen, lower; clinically precise strokes.

"The dresser."

Alex nodded again, caught his eyes briefly in infinitesimally narrowed concentration. He seemed to be trying to answer something for himself, but he didn't speak. Walter felt the brush of warm, silky skin as the younger man walked past, found himself focusing absurdly on the light dusting of freckles on the tawny back. With sudden, heart-stopping clarity he saw the two of them on a beach somewhere, the kind of sunshine that put a twitch in your cock no matter who you were with, that powerful golden light demanding worship, naked on some soft, bright towel, coconut scented oil, soft skin and hard muscles filling his hands...

Walter shook off the images and slipped behind the younger man, running a hand down the slim back, toying with the dusting of blond hair, pressing a thumb into the bundle of nerves at the base of the spine. An encouraging shudder. He dug in gently, rubbing in small circles while letting his other hand roam between the parted thighs. Half-hard flesh jumping to life under his fingers. Walter regretted the absence of a mirror, but then he didn't want to seem too routine.

Light graze of a short nail over a vein, a gasp. "Wider." Alex obliged, spreading his legs and bending over just a little. The impulse to thrust was impossible to resist, but the feel of smooth skin, the instinctive buck when the younger man felt his erection... even through the fabric of his trousers it was distracting. He pulled back with a sigh he couldn't quite hold in, and stepped to the side. The hustler raised his head in question.

//Well, no, I can't make up my mind what I want to do with you...//

Walter decided not to trust his ability to say anything coherent at that moment, and simply held his hand in front of Alex's face. Pink tongue swipe over his palm; another. Young-old eyes fluttered closed as the younger man applied himself to getting Walter's hand as slick as possible. A brief twitch of humor on otherwise smooth cheeks as he took two fingers deep for an inspirational moment. Nothing Walter hadn't seen before, but it never lost its appeal.

Skinner lowered his hand to the younger man's cock. Hard flesh slipped and slid through his fist, hot and almost seeming to brand.... Sharp little thrusts, breathless gasps. It was hard to retain a professional exterior when you were fucking something tight and slick and welcoming... anything tight and slick and welcoming. Walter smiled to himself and finally let his other hand fall on the pumping ass. Alex froze, but the older man was almost sure that the reaction was due more to the sudden sound than to any real discomfort.

A soft squeeze, a brief flip of thumb over the head and the thrusts began again, less fluid this time as the boy tensed himself for another blow. That was unacceptable. Walter brought his free hand up to the obliging mouth and had a finger sucked in immediately.

//He wants me to fuck him and get it over with...//

The older man slid his dampened finger down Alex's spine, kickstarting a brief flurry of wilder thrusts that steadied as the finger made its way down the crack of his ass. Alex bent a little farther and pushed back against the probing finger, but the older man refused to take the bait, teasing along the sensitive skin, skirting just wide of the entrance being so provocatively displayed, then continuing down to stroke the delicate flesh below. Alex moaned, so low as to be almost inaudible, and that beautiful head fell forward in

//feigned?//

acquiescence.

The unwelcome thought spurred Walter to action and, without warning, he released Alex's swollen cock, raided his hand and let it fall sharply, quickly, patterning the pale flesh even as his other hand continued caressing Alex's perineum and balls. His efforts were rewarded with a gasp, a flinch, another moan.

//He knows what I want from him, and gives it. It's almost enough...//

On some level, Walter knew just what his thoughts said about him, but oh, it was so easy to be distracted from that unwelcome knowledge. And if his subconscious discomfort made his hand fall a little more heavily, well, he was paying for the privilege, after all.

Again and again and Alex was moving with the rhythm now, shuddering and swaying and too much it was all too much--

"Blow me." Spinning the boy around and to his knees, barely giving him time to grab one of the condoms that were always within arm's reach. Latex unfurling over him and then he was plunging into that oh-so-talented mouth, bucking and jerking and oh yes it *was* hard to retain a professional exterior, even his own, and even when he knew (with some distant part of his brain) that once again he'd lost control of the situation, and he'd loathe himself for it later, but how could he worry about that now, so hot so sweet so tight and that tongue swirling and stroking and teasing and behind his closed eyelids he could still see that ripe, perfect ass tattooed with his handprints and he wondered how the next man would feel upon seeing these marks of possession, however false, however temporary--

For a little while, Walter had something of his own, and it was glorious.

**********  
Fin  
***********

With many, many thanks to the lovely, talented, and endlessly patient Alicia for helping this end so that I could get back to M/K. <g> Will you stop hitting me, now?

T�

 

* * *

 

22 September 1998  
Other Paths Interlude: Arrangements  
by Te  
9/98  
Disclaimers: They belong to 1013 Productions, and Fox, and Surfer Boy and each other. But I'm a klepto.  
Spoilers: Not a one. Though this takes place somewhere in the vicinity of Sleepless, I think.  
Summary: New boundaries.  
Ratings Note: NC-17 for m/m affection.  
Author's Note: Another moment from the _Other Paths_ universe. In chronological order:  
  "Nameless"  
  "Distance and Possession"  
  "Arrangements"  
  "Lucky Men"  
  "Liberty"  
  "All of the Animals"  
  "Home"  
  "Weapons"  
  "Harder To Hold"

Acknowledgments: To Dawn Sharon for all-too-necessary preliminary stroke and the provision of more than a bit of inspiration. To Alicia for putting up with large amounts of shameless manipulation and giving me editorial wuv. Also to Spike and Rye, whose fine beta made this a better story. All remaining mistakes are entirely my own fault.  
Feedback: PLEASE. I mean it. Please. Always.

* * *

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Other Paths Interlude: Arrangements  
by Te  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I'm not interested in your money. Sir."

Insolent, confident, infuriating. Sexy as hell. Walter made a show of settling back in his chair, took in the other man slowly. Alex Krycek. Rentboy turned federal agent. He'd come in swaggering -- a dare in a cheap suit and too much hair gel. Walter carefully blanked his expression, more than a little interested in seeing if he could make the other man squirm.

Alex had, after all, worried him. When a hustler disappears, "training at Quantico" is not the first thought that comes to mind. Walter hadn't been looking forward to breaking someone else in -- or to nights without that curious blend of threat and near-submission he'd come to take for granted from Alex.

And now here he was, in Walter's office, face bland as roseate marble save for the smirk he knew -- *knew* -- twitched just beneath the surface.

"Are you saying you want me to keep fucking you, Krycek?"

A twitch just above the left eye. Walter had long been aware of the effect of a properly placed obscenity. Or improperly --the Assistant Director's office was supposed to be above such things. But he knew Alex was no ordinary plebe. The younger man's reaction was both expected and gratifying, the muted quality of it both expected and... intriguing. Walter let the silence hang, curious to see how Krycek would play it.

Brief gleam of speculation in the wide green eyes and then he was treated to a calculated loosening of the blue-flamer stance and a truly brilliant smile. A small, insistent alarm began going off in Walter's brain. Something about trouble and wrong, but he was a lot more interested in the curious way his vision was blurring around the edges. In the casual brush of clever fingers at Alex's own collar. Perfectly innocent movement. Perfectly innocent smile. And a bulge the ill-fitting suit pants did nothing to hide.

Just an oversexed kid, then. A walking request to be used. That in itself would be dangerous enough, but the fact they *both* knew it was a lie made it even worse. The man was a puzzle box, and, suddenly, Walter wanted nothing more than the opportunity to solve him. Or break him in the process. Walter nodded, scrawled a few words on a scrap of paper, pushed it across the desk. Alex glanced briefly at the scrap, then back at him.

"Be there. 8 p.m."

The eyes widened almost imperceptibly at the sound of his voice. The effect was pleasant.

"Yes, sir." Another smile and Alex was out of the office. Walter had a moment to wonder whether he'd be working his way into Mulder's pants as well, and chuckled darkly to himself. He really couldn't decide who would be getting the worst of the deal in terms of sheer mindfuckery.

******

Seven forty-five and Walter was tapping his fingers impatiently on the steering wheel. The Beltway had no right whatsoever to be this snarled this late in the day. He could feel a growl building up from somewhere in the vicinity of his sternum, and wondered at the depth of his anger.

//Just another night with the rentboy-cum-subordinate.

//Another night with Alex.//

The difference between the two thoughts was irritatingly cliched, sentimental. He remembered exactly when the boy had become 'Alex' -- he'd overheard one of the other corner boys call him that in a goodbye just as he pulled up to the curb one night. They'd driven off in silence, like always, but the knowledge had itched at his tongue.

"Would you prefer it if I called you Alex." Far too gruff to be considered a question... he knew his own voice well enough to know that.

If the look in those endless green eyes had been hopeful, or eager, he would've ignored whatever came out of the lying mouth.... But the eyes had narrowed in suspicion, and there had been a momentary flash of the anger he'd come to want from the other man as much as the tight young ass on his cock.

"If you want to. Sir."

Always pushing the envelope. It had gripped him then, and it gripped him now. And if the little bastard had left by the time Walter got there.... Well, there would be repercussions.

******

It was nearly 8:30 by the time Walter got to the anonymous motel. Alex -- he knew the form well -- was highlighted through the thin curtains with that vaguely buttery light unique to motel lamps and pensioners' kitchens. He was pacing. Walter had a moment of fierce, malicious joy at the sight. He had to be worrying if it was a set up, at least. For no respectable reason at all, Walter forced himself to count to twenty-five before leaving his car.

The door was an entirely separate issue. Once he would've simply walked in... but he was no longer a paying customer. He hesitated for another moment then rapped twice, sharply. Alex opened the door immediately -- his expression a curious combination of happiness, apprehension, and an entirely encouraging lust. Once that would've been all he'd see before the other man was brazenly entering his space, cupping him through his trousers... asking him what he wanted. Mischief clouding all else immediately as the "Give me an order so I can pretend to obey" persona kicked in. But now the rules were different.

"What, precisely, do you want from this, Krycek?"

And it was like throwing a switch. The aggressively ugly tie --already loosened -- was removed entirely and Walter was being treated to the world's most efficient strip show. The suit pants weren't entirely worthless -- one tug and they slipped easily down the long legs. Naked, there wasn't even the possibility of thinking of the man as 'Krycek,' not even on a surface level. This was Alex, his Alex, from the lightly mussed hair to the casually elegant toes. It was a welcome sight.

"What do *you* want, Walter?"

Another marker on the board. The tone was confident with just a hint of a drawl, the eyes glittering. Skim of ice on a pond. Walter's clothes were much too tight. Time seemed to yaw, briefly, to the left and he found himself kissing Alex, tasting mint and lust. His hands felt clumsy and large on the pale skin, silk over lean muscle. Alex had lost a little weight, but Quantico tended to do that to a person. It felt good. *Alex* felt good and he barely noticed the leanly muscled arms settling on his shoulders, although the ruthless grind of the naked hips against his own was impossible to ignore.

Walter let his hands wander down to the other man's ass and gripped hard, pulled Alex harder against him, thrust with deliberate thoroughness. The wool of his trousers was fine, but the flesh...

"Ohh..."

The low moan against his mouth was as close to music as Walter had gotten these past months; the mindless snap of hips challenge, invitation and welcome in one. Walter ran his thumb down the crack and teased, earned a brief shudder before he was being pushed away. He had a moment to wonder whether this was another play for dominance or a dangerous plea for same, before Alex's hands were tugging at his tie.

Walter took the hint and started unbuttoning, letting his fingers tangle pleasantly with Alex's. Maybe this wasn't the script, but Walter realized he was tired of the games, the motions of distance.

He had no illusions of a future; had a very loud internal voice, indeed, damning him for being eighteen separate kinds of fool for continuing this... but Walter was nothing if not practical. The damage was done, his career one well placed video camera and five odd minutes of film from over. Both sheep and goats got slaughtered, but goats tended to lead fuller lives.

Alex dropped to his knees and undid Walter's pants, pushed the boxers aside and took him deep. The hunger was palpable with each stroke of the clever tongue and Walter was tempted to let it end just this way, lose himself in the welcome of the hot little mouth, the implicit promise of forgiveness should he lose control and thrust once, twice, again... Alex moaned around him and Walter could see him working his own cock. He pushed Alex off and the air on his spit-slicked cock was much too cold.

Walter ran a thumb over the swollen lips and Alex looked up at him evenly, still stroking himself. It was almost impossible to remember why he'd decided against this, but then Alex kissed his fingertip lightly and smiled. Such a sunny thing it made his insides clench. Sharon was home, alone, and he was here. There was a time when they had played like this, too. He wondered if she was drunk yet. He caught Alex's gaze and the olive eyes had narrowed some, picking up on his darkening mood.

//Not you.//

He pulled Alex to his feet and kissed him again, tasting himself briefly before burrowing into the throat. Low and careful -- he'd have to remember the suits made bruises like the ones he intended to leave stand out in stark relief. The endless t-shirts exposed more flesh... but marks were natural against their backdrop. The ramble of his mind lost meaning in the taste of Alex's skin, in the casually familiar tugs that led the two of them to the bed.

Walter reveled in the feel of the other man, rested his entire weight briefly just to hear the "Mmm..." he associated with that luxury. But this wasn't the time for it. He was aware that he was moving slower and more gently than usual, but with Alex writhing under his touch the knowledge lost meaning. His scent was always just a little too sweet. It seemed imperative to Walter to make Alex sweat, coax out a touch of salt lest he gnaw into the man like an overripe fruit.

Though that, too, had its charms.

Alex was alternately pulling him closer and attempting to nudge him down toward the cock currently painting Walter's chest in narrow strokes of want. It was marvelous to be wanted, but Walter had to wonder how Alex adjusted to these shifts so quickly.

//Doing what *he* wants, now?//

The thought demanded a little investigation and he looked up from the nipple he'd been lapping at. Alex immediately propped himself on his elbows. Shot him a look of good-humored impatience from under a damp fall of hair. The lower lip was even more swollen.... Alex had been biting it. The look gained a flash of wildness and Walter realized he'd been digging his fingers into the other man's torso.

"Sorry..."

Alex opened his mouth but there was nothing but a pause. Walter refused to let it hang there, scooting down the lean body and taking Alex's cock into his mouth for a few sharp pulls. The taste was a terrifyingly familiar pleasure, the gasps grateful for perhaps more reason than the obvious.

After a time, Walter felt Alex's hands sliding over his scalp and had a moment of "too much" before he realized that Alex was trying to pull him off. He considered ignoring the request for the length of time it took to get his tongue positioned properly against the underside of Alex's cock... but there were new rules. And there was something exhilarating about the choice to follow them. He settled for a deliberately slow lick as he pulled himself off, noticed that while Alex's hand slid off his nape it settled on his shoulder and stayed there. The grip was loose but steady, thumb brushing lightly over his collarbone.

He glanced up to find Alex smiling lazily at him, blood dotting the soft mouth, eyes half-lidded and glittering again. Walter crawled up the lean body and drank Alex in, slipping his tongue inside, tasting iron and catching the slick cock in his fist. Alex moaned and pulled him closer, then slid his hands down Walter's arms to catch at his hands. No way to consider this anything but dangerous, no way to make himself care.

Alex brought a knee up along Walter's hip and the sudden change of position left them shifting harshly groin to groin. Walter groaned into the kiss and felt himself burning away, helpless to do anything but thrust against Alex and plant kisses far too gentle on the flushed face. And then Alex flipped them both over.

A moment to be shocked -- it had, quite literally, been years since anyone had done that to him -- and then Alex was kissing him again, forcing them into closer and closer contact and working his hips in tight, frustrating rolls that had Walter growling in seconds. This was new, but the overt proof of the other man's desire was impossible to resist. The heat, the sounds of their mingled groans, the scent of sex spiraling up from their bodies and marking the cheap room with seeming indelibility -- there was worth in this beyond any desire to stay in character.

Alex finally released his hands and knelt up. Walter immediately set his hands to roam, letting his thumbs brush over the taut nipples again and again until Alex let his head fall back. Their hips were in constant motion, cock to cock and maddening each other steadily.

"Walter... Walter..."

He seemed to be teaching himself the syllables as much as simply calling his name. Either way, the abandoned husk of Alex's voice was always more than enough to burn a hole into Walter's sanity. Every part of him needed to be inside the puzzle box. It was vastly important to understand, to see if it was a fascinatingly Byzantine collection of empty corridors... or simply a place to warm himself.

"Alex."

The dark head snapped forward immediately, though the hips continued their languidly debauched roll against his own. The pupils were almost fully dilated, the flush creeping steadily from the damp face down over Alex's pale chest. The color set off the few golden hairs.

Something very old and very sure within Walter decided he would have this man as much as he could, as long as he could. There was to be no discussion. It was less a voice than a biological imperative, a counterpoint to the throb of his cock, an endless display of whys that would neither stand up to the cold light of reason nor bother to try. This was beyond such mundanities, and couldn't help but consider itself above them, as well.

The slick was on the night table, and as soon as he reached for it Alex was leaning over -- precariously, dangerously -- to help, slipping the condom over Walter's length with practiced ease and snatching the lube away, as well. Walter raised an eyebrow at that but received only another of those brilliant smiles in response. Something inside him unravelled a bit each time Alex did that. Nothing to do but lean back and watch the show.

The narrowing of focus, small frown line marring the smooth features for just a moment and then Alex was throwing his head back again, working himself shamelessly. Pleasuring himself perhaps more than preparing, but when the result was this brazen writhing above him Walter couldn't complain about the time it was taking. He contented himself with catching Alex's cock and stroking roughly. Alex moaned softly and steadily, slowing down a little to match the pace of his fingers to his thrusts into Walter's fist. Excellent control and it only made him hotter.

"Are you ready for me, Alex?" The sound of his own voice was much too low, barely distinguishable as human to his ears but the shudder that racked the younger man's frame was just the response he wanted.

Alex slipped his fingers out with a small gasp and reached around to slick Walter's cock with a touch so gentle it made him buck nearly hard enough to dislodge the other man.

Alex giggled and ran a thumb over the trapped head of Walter's cock, eliciting another buck. "Easy there, Walter..."

There it was again -- hint of a drawl and the implied tease did the job. He grabbed Alex by the hips and yanked him into position. "Sit on it."

Brief widening of eyes and another smile... comfortingly wicked this time and he held Walter steady, bit into that fine, pink lip just a little, and Walter couldn't help but reach up to pet the bruised softness. He got his fingers sucked in deep for his trouble -- swallowed much too slowly by Alex's heat, above and below and it seemed that the younger man should be teasing, smirking wetly around his fingers in that "look what I can do to you" way that allowed for some distance to be placed, for promises of revenge to be made.

But Alex's eyes were closed, moving restlessly under smooth lids. His mouth went slack with a series of gasping sobs, tongue snaking wildly around Walter's fingers, thighs flexing mindlessly as Alex sank down and down...

Flush against him Alex opened his eyes, released Walter's fingers. He crushed himself against Walter's body, moving awkwardly, and lapped at the hollow of the older man's collarbone with relentless attention. It was too much. Walter flipped them over, the motion driving him deeper within Alex's body and making them both cry out. The lean thighs didn't take much coaxing to settle possessively around his waist and the older man was lost to the rhythm, every thrust pulling a moan from Alex and pulling Walter closer to the edge.

Walter looked down to see Alex jerking himself ruthlessly with no care for pacing anymore. The slam of the lean hips against his own was as ragged as his breathing. Nothing to do but lean in and claim Alex's mouth, slip in and taste, tell himself there was nothing more important than this, right here. Walter understood the bright pang of belief that came along with that inner voice would only mean the inevitable time without Alex would be empty and cold. For now, though, there was heat, salt, and need -- and Walter knew such things were precious.

******

Alex woke with a start. He really hadn't expected to pass out like that. Of course, that was probably why he'd had the impulse to seduce Walter in his new incarnation of FBI Agent, anyway. There was, as always, a wry twist of satisfaction at answering one of his own mysteries. He turned to see Walter just to the side, turned away and on his stomach. The back was broad and inviting; the impulse to drape himself over it, perhaps kiss a stripe across the shoulderblades, was impossible to deny. The scent was somewhere between satiety and sleep, the taste irresistible.

Walter murmured softly beneath his attentions, clearly even more wiped than he was. The thought made Alex smile and he settled himself more fully along the other man's body. Even if his job, technically, had nothing to do with Walter, such conveniences of positioning were to be taken advantage of.

He wondered how long it would take to make the man do him in his office.

~~~~  
End.  
~~~~


End file.
